


She Will Remember

by lool_gilliana (HJC_ChenZhiDe)



Series: Say You Will [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bedelia is freed but not really, F/M, Implied Angst, Major bombshell to poor Bedelia, Missing scene for Bedelia, Post-Episode: s03e06 Dolce, Unaware Bedelia, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25378723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HJC_ChenZhiDe/pseuds/lool_gilliana
Summary: Bedelia was transferred back to the States and sent to the hospital. She might think that she was finally free, but Hannibal will always keep her remember she was not.
Relationships: Bedannibal, Bedelia Du Maurier & Hannibal Lecter, Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter, Hannidelia - Relationship
Series: Say You Will [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837849
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	She Will Remember

**Author's Note:**

> It just HAPPENED.  
> To be honest, I don't know why I have written in this way and English is not my first language so sometimes it is really difficult for me to express my thoughts in beautiful sentences.  
> I'm sorry if it is shitty!

All she can see now was the pale ceiling before her, so close yet so far. 

Where she has resided in the past few months, the ceiling of the historical building painted in the grace of Florence Renaissance, outlining the trace of a glorious era. In which the aesthetic inhaled in every single breathe, sunk into the skin in every touch. It was so much different from the ceiling she was now looking.

It was also this difference that struck her from inside.

She could not help herself but imagine that above the ceiling there was a Florence night tinted in starry grey, where they coiled together on that silk bed in scarlet, the heartbeats of each other lingered in the air. 

Then, there she lost a beat. _Heartbeats_. 

She thought of losing pulsations of the heart at this place was ordinary, people lost their heartbeats here anyway - in a hospital, in a single ward, where she was now grounded. 

She was sent to the hospital once they landed a day ago. Because it was a procedural medical check-up for a _hostage_ \- as she was told and as she told herself. And because she was violently ill during the transfer from Italy to the States, the FBI would not want anything to happen to such a significant prospect who was the only living connection to Hannibal Lecter during his flee.

Even though the position she was now has hindered the view of the corridor from her window, she knew she was surrounded by the FBI. It was just another kind of cage with pale concretes. However, she felt more protected behind the invisible bars of this cage than the gilded walls that a cannibal has made her retained. 

Out of her certainty, there was a part of her numbed to a degree which the reason she could not tell.

She stared at the ceiling, blankly, as if she was paralyzed.

When the relief ceased followed by freeing herself, it was now the reality hit her by all means. For she can portray well as a victim, a hostage – she was manipulative enough even to deceive herself. It was because for all those days she was just lived in a fairy tale tainted by blood and sins. 

And to her, a fairy tale never exists. 

Thus, it was unnecessary to address those numbed feelings that hunted her along from Florence. She would not need to define what a lost heartbeat means.

“Still could not fall asleep?” a male doctor with a pair of warming green eyes rising his greets gently when he entered her ward.

Dr Michaelson was the attending physician who in-charged for her hospitalization. He reached for her chart that hanging at the end of her bed and gave her a soft smile. 

She nodded, frail but guarded. "The ceiling reminds me of the days in Florence."

The doctor stopped flipping the chart at hand and looked up at the ceiling, then glanced down to his patient. Head leaning against the pillow, the platinum blonde curls spreading all over the pillowcase, he can tell her tiny face was just as wan as the white ceiling.

“You are safe now," he reassured her. “How do you feel, Bedelia?”

“Not getting any better,” she told the truth, she was indeed physically ill for the past few days. These caught her unanticipated but quickly justified the facts rationally and even more persuasive to people. "I was told that I was drugged all along, which quite certain that I‘m now experiencing the side effects.”

Her doctor blinked twice before putting a sympathy smile. "Then you should rest immediately. I'm sure you will feel better after putting some sleep."

She returned him with a weak smile which faded as soon as the doctor has left her ward. She caught the shades that concealed in his beautiful green eyes.

Those beautiful green eyes locked on the man who was pinned outside the ward even before he came to visit the patient. The man was staring through the glass window. The calmness washed over his face as if he was observing a wounded bird with not much sympathy.

The image of Bedelia burnt into Jack Crawford’s minds – so weak, so vulnerable, so innocent. But he knew she was not.

“Dr Michaelson,” Jack turned his head aside, nodded when their sights met. “how is she?”

The doctor looked into his eyes quietly, standing next to him before the window. “She is underweight and severely dehydrated. The blood test results also inferred that she has anaemia... Apart from the symptoms she has displayed, no other physical harm has found.”

“Does she still believe herself was Lydia Fell?”

"No," Dr Michaelson replied, flipping again the chart he carried out from the ward. "but she believes she's experiencing the side effects of the psychoactive substances that injected to her body.”

"Shouldn't her believe in this way?" a slight smirk flickered on Jack's face. "She is, _of course_ , experiencing those side effects until she couldn't even tell if she was the one who injected herself with those drug cocktails."

The doctor regarded his statement with politeness but refused to make any comment on top of that. What he cared about was his patient's well-being. Investigation of criminal intentions was not his job.

“I would like to have her being assessed by our psychiatrist before we could reveal to her about her true medical condition."

"I don't understand, Dr Michaelson." he frowned when digesting the doctor’s words. 

"To be specific, we need to exclude the signs of her from developing post-traumatic stress disorder or any related disorder that could result from the events she has experienced.” 

"She is a psychiatrist. She managed to survive unharmed from living with a criminal who has no morality at all for months." Jack claimed reluctantly. "Are you implying that she was _really_ a hostage? She shot herself with drugs because all she wanted is just a bloody alibi! Or she was insane?"

"I just don't think it is appropriate to disclose this information given her current condition," Dr Michaelson glanced at the man firmly, his green eyes filled with genuine integrity. "I'm not sure how the FBI would handle this for the sake of investigation, but we need to ensure her psychological state is strong enough to receive the fact."

Brief eye contact maintained in dead silence. 

"What happened to her?" Jack widened his eyes. It was that time he realized the doctor was serious upon his own judgement. "She is experiencing the side effects of those drugs injected to her body, isn't she?"

The doctor shook his head gently, suggesting a different answer. "She is pregnant, still at an early stage," he announced rather calmly before releasing a sigh. "I don't think she is aware."

Jack inhaled deeply to the unexpected news, palm clamped on his mouth and looked at the unaware woman resting on the bed quietly. Somehow, her vulnerable now seemed surreal. He wondered how sins can be defined. 

In the ward, Bedelia raised her left arm, ignoring the sores given by the drips and tubes of an intravenous infusion. She spread her fingers like a net under the ceiling, longing for something that was missing.

Once there was a wedding ring. It did not belong to her but it was a commitment from her to become his wife.

There she lost a heartbeat again. A single tear slid out from her eye and slipped across her temple. 

Once she wanted to remember all of it. But it was no longer what she needed.

As for now, she just wanted to rest her minds at the shore that was no more turmoils swung across her emotions. _She left him_ , so that she can live fearlessly, whatever it means. 

But Hannibal Lecter will always be Hannibal Lecter. 

For she can deny those numb feelings, refuse to term those lost heartbeats, but soon she will realize not only violent deaths that he has ever brought her to engrave in her memories.

It was a matter of new life he gave her that will always endure her for remembering - remember there was once, she loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading to the end!  
> I never thought that I will be writing a sequel for my previous work, especially with this outcome.  
> I'm not sure if I would write anymore sequel... but let me know by leaving a comment if you wish to!  
> And also feel free to leave any feedback and suggestion.  
> Thanks xx


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